


Someway, I Can Make It Home

by TheShadowOfASoldier



Series: Say It Again [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Character Death, Child Death, Consensual, Established Relationship, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, I don't plan on smut but we'll see down the road, I'm talking reeeaaalll eventual, Intimacy, Major character death - Freeform, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Original Characters - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Profanity, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-10-24 05:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17698520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShadowOfASoldier/pseuds/TheShadowOfASoldier
Summary: I was going to live. I thought, staring ahead at the monster ahead of me, eyes blank and the widest grin I had ever seen smeared across an off-white skull. I had to find a way to escape, there had to be a way, I almost choked on my hope when my legs locked up. I swallowed hard, forcing a sob into the back of my throat, Tony’s face flashing through my mind, the feeling of Duck’s fur. My throat burned and my eyes began to go slick before I realized that there was one thing I could do that might save me. My breath caught in my throat. I tried to slow down my breathing, slow down the pounding of my heart, slow down my racing mind and that thing in front of me seemed to watch my every move. I glanced over to my left, and something flashed across its face the moment I forced myself to take a step toward the drop and--I threw myself over the edge.**Currently undergoing minor reconstruction before I continue**------Previous Titles: 'Eventually', 'Something That Could Get Me Home' (I think I've settled this time, finally)Changed on April 21st, 2019, 16:00 EST





	1. Running, Crying, and almost Dying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm going through and rewriting some stuff. If you read the story as it first came out, don't worry! Everything is pretty much the same, just worded differently, and I guess elaborated on? Also, the MS's actions and reactions differ somewhat, but nothing deviates much from how it was before. If you started reading pre-edit, you should totally be able to start from where you left off if you don't want to reread anything.

I just fucking _ran_.

My heavy boots kicked up dust, stirring the air behind me as I ducked the fuck out of dodge. I didn’t know what the shit those things were-- but seeing walking furries and dead men completely maxed out the bullshit-I-could-take meter five times over. I swear that one of those _things_ reached for me, and at that point, my shit was flipped and I was done. I spun-heel and immediately tore down the mountain path, boots crunching dry leaves and I sent myself flying because I did _not_ want to die today. In my full-on leg pumping frenzy, I cut through the air and barrelled through brush and thicket until I felt my body jerk.

I was ripped from my flight like a bird plucked from the sky by its wings and in my desperation, I shrugged out of straps and scrambled on. Hearing a howl or two behind me of whatever the fuck I left behind me was, I sailed through the air. I found myself entering a narrow hiking trail leading down a slope. It was between a hard cliff face to my right, and a sudden drop to my left carved out by the river that flowed far below it. It was wide enough to walk if you clung to the cliff face, but I wasn’t certain how safe it was. I glanced back for a second wondering if circling back and avoiding the ensemble of freaks was an option. Looking ahead again, my heart dropped like a stone.

 _I was going to live._ I thought, staring ahead at the monster ahead of me, eyes blank and the widest grin I had ever seen smeared across an off-white skull. I had to find a way to escape, there had to be a way, I almost choked on my hope when my legs locked up. I swallowed hard, forcing a sob into the back of my throat, Tony’s face flashing through my mind, the feeling of Duck’s fur. My throat burned and my eyes began to go slick before I realized that there was one thing I could do that might save me. My breath caught in my throat. I tried to slow down my breathing, slow down the pounding of my heart, slow down my racing mind and that thing in front of me seemed to watch my every move. I glanced over to my left, and _something_ flashed across its face the moment I forced myself to take a step toward the drop and threw myself over the edge.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and felt my heart pound in my ears as I forced my body to relax. I tried to put everything else out of my mind as I felt the wind whip up against my face and my body’s weightlessness. After a moment or two, I opened my eyes preparing to be plunged into the cold depths of what I hoped was a deep river that would break my fall but I was just… frozen. I was floating in empty air and the cold crept in, chills and terror racked began to shake my entire body. The hand of the skeleton was outstretched, one eye socket closed and the other on _fire._ It was even more mesmerizing as the sunset behind him. I was suspended right in front of him and I felt the sob I forced back make its way from the back of my throat. My chest was thick with helplessness and anticipation. This is it. I couldn’t escape, I couldn’t hide. I was going to die and I could no longer hold back the desperate wails I had been holding in.

I wasn’t going to get to go home.

“heya.” I flinched, trying to still my trembling body, clenching my fists in order to stop my hands from shaking. He sounded almost friendly, inviting me to look up at him. I couldn’t. I stared at his feet, unable to meet his eye. “hey.” He said with enough force for me to flinch and finally look up at him, tears still carving paths down my face. “how’s it goin’, human?” He paused. His sick grin somehow growing even wider, splitting his face in two. The flame of his open eye grew more intense, almost crazed. “hangin’ in there?” He chuckled at my stunned horror. 

It took about a full minute before I could collect myself. And when I did, I got angry. Really fucking angry.

“Fuck you.” I choked out pathetically, voice thick and hoarse with still unshed tears. I began welling up saliva and mucus in my mouth.

“not too much of a good sport, ar-” I spit in his face, and he froze. His flaming eye fell blank and his outstretched hand began to loosen. His grin turned into a grimace, and I felt the corners of my mouth twitch just before he spoke again. Every slow soft word from his mouth made me grow colder, and any small smile I had was wiped from my face.

“you will regret that.”

His eye socket twitched just before I was thrown through the air, rushing toward the face of the cliff. Before I could let out a scream, my world was filled with agony until I felt nothing at all.


	2. 18 missed calls, 34 texts, and 12 voicemails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap:
> 
> “Fuck you.” I choked out pathetically, voice thick with tears. I began welling up saliva and mucus in my mouth.
> 
> “not too much of a good sport, ar-” I spit in his face, and he froze. His flaming eye fell blank and his outstretched hand began to loosen. His grin turned into a grimace, and I felt the corners of my mouth twitch just before he spoke again. Every slow soft word from his mouth made me grow colder, and any small smile I had was wiped from my face.
> 
> “you will regret that.”
> 
> His eye socket twitched just before I was thrown through the air, rushing toward the face of the cliff. Before I could let out a scream, my world was filled with agony until I felt nothing at all.

I came to consciousness staring up at flecks of light littering a blue-black sky, trying to blink away the painfully dry crusted tears lining my eyelids and cough up the dust coating my throat. I shifted my weight to move and tried to remember how I ended up here. As I tried to move, I felt like every bone in my body began to slide, pop and scrape against each other. I sucked in the chilly night air, and pain flooded my dry burning throat. I tried getting my wrist under my body to push myself up, and when I tried I felt my body snap. Neither the hand I had slammed over my mouth, nor me biting my tongue so hard blood filled my mouth could stop the screams from bursting from my lungs. Tears flooded my vision once again, and I felt my body drop to the ground, my shoulder crackling under my weight when I hit the ground. 

I had just laid still for what felt like forever. Unable to muster the energy to move. I let myself breathe, despite every time I managed to shudder in a breath, tremors of pain rattled through my body. After a time, I shifted to the left, trying my best to ignore the protests of the right side of my body. I lifted my left arm, elbow digging into the dry ground of the hiking trail. A gasp shot through my pained throat as I realized I was just shy of a sharp drop. I used my elbow to push myself up, and I bent my knee, trying to slide it into a position where I could push myself up and not fall over the edge. As I precariously supported the largely dead weight of the rest of my body, I pushed myself across the narrow pass, and closer to the cliffs face. For a moment, I let myself rest before shifting the weight from my elbow to my hand and using it as support to hop onto my uninjured leg from my knee. Every part of my body slipped and cracked against each other, and I recognized that I would probably be unable to move, if not for the adrenaline rushing through my veins. 

I managed to get myself standing, even as my body screamed at me to fall. I reached with my largely uninjured hand and tried to check my abdomen or external wounds. Miraculously, I couldn’t find any blood, but I definitely had several ribs broken on my right, the side of the body that was thrown against the cliffs face at the right of the trail. Before deciding to move any further, I stopped to breathe. In and out, my stuttering breaths a staccato I couldn’t really control as I assessed what surroundings I could see. I heard a click from directly beside me and saw a soft orange glow from my periphery. Without even turning, I knew what it was. 

“Yo-You.” I forced out and fell into a coughing fit that wracked my body with pain. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” I managed, my voice hoarse and whispery.

“nope.” He quipped. “can’t.” Smoke was blown and scraped the edge of my vision. A cigarette, something that was familiar among the strange. I said nothing, I just closed my eyes and tried to calm my frantic heart and trembling body. I heard the soft crunching of dry leaves and footsteps pounding the dust.

“Papy? Is the Human awake?” A soft voice, quiet and careful sounded out behind me. I forced myself to turn, seeing the source. Another skeleton. Another fucking skeleton and I see light even further behind it, flickering like fire and illuminating the distance like it. More of _them._  

The moment his eyes met mine, they flicked away. Bright, sharp, defined eyelights shrunk, softened and dimmed.

"OH, HELLO HUMAN!" I felt myself recoil and gasped at the shockwaves of pain that flooded my body. I refused to let out the cries that ripped from my lungs and stuck in my throat, but he noticed. His wide smile falling into a grimace. "Sorry, human." He said softly, as he glanced down at something he was carrying in his arms. He stepped closer, looking past me. I pressed myself harder into the wall of packed dirt behind me. "My name is… My name is Sans. The _Magnificent_ Sans." He says even softer than before, making sure to keep his distance. The lights in his eyes are faint. "And that," he nods his head in the direction of the orange-clad smoker. "Is my brother, Papyrus." 

He took a step toward me again, and he carefully set down what he held in his arms, before stepping away again. I watched his every move, and when he caught on, he looked pained and looked away. 

"I'm sorry he hurt you." He paused for a second, I saw his brother glancing at him from my peripheral vision. "I… don't know why he did what he did. But you didn't deserve it a-an-and we can heal you!" He looked at me but didn't meet my eyes. He stared past me, lights in his eyes a bit brighter, sharper than before.

"I can get another monster to help you--but your bag has been ringing? It's been ringing for a while now and I thought you might want to che-" I disregarded the pain when I used my largely uninjured arm to snake out and snatch my pack from the ground, quickly pulling it to my chest. Cradling it in my arm, I carefully tried to unzip and reach for my phone. I flinched when it started buzzing right before I touch it. I glanced at my notifications as I slid the green answer icon across the screen. 18 missed calls, 34 texts, and 12 voicemails, all from Anthony. The phone was on low battery, I noted when I pulled the phone to my ear.

"Baby?" Anthony's voice sounded through the receiver, relief flooding his voice. "Baby where are you? It's after dark, I-I've been so worried. I was just about to go a-and look for you." His voice broke in a couple of places, renewing the tears I'd thought were done flowing down my cheeks. 

"I-" I choked, not really knowing what to tell him.

"Where are you? Just tell me where, and I--I'll come pick you- you're still on the trail, right? Where on it? Did you get hurt? Just tell me Sweetheart, I'll be there as soon as I-"

"I'm so sorry, Anthony." I choke when I say his name. "I'm so s-" I sniffed which led into a sputtering cough. "-orry."

"I'm coming to get you." His voice was hard. Worry steeling his resolve, he tried so hard not to, but I knew he was scared.

"NO!" I shrieked. "No. Stay where you are. I--I'll be home soon." I almost sobbed, the words falling from my mouth tasting like a lie. "I pro-mise." I choked on the word, feeling dirty for using it.

"Baby I can't just sit here while you're out th-" His voice was thick, and he got cut off by my crying. "You _will._ I swear I'll come back, I l-" I heard the little jingle of the phone powering off. I shouted a curse in frustration, throwing my phone as I cried. The Smoker turned his head away from me, and the blue-clad one kept glancing up at me from the ground, seemingly lost on what to do as I sat there and sobbed, clutching my pack like it was my only lifeline. 

"You will be able to go home soon, child." A voice I hadn’t heard before said. It was sympathetic and warm. Almost fatherly. I looked up, finding myself craning my neck to look at the face of an almost impossibly large creature. Its eyes were soft, looking down at me with something that almost felt like pity. I felt my mouth contort into a sneer, feeling the dry trails of tears that tightened my skin crack painfully.

His gaze softened even more, and his… paw twitched, raising in my direction before freezing and falling again, lightly swinging at his side. Instead of reaching for me, he knelt. The monster let himself fall to his knees, trying to stoop as low as he could to meet my eyes. He was still too tall, but in his clear discomfort, he spoke again. “I promise to you little one, I will do everything to the fullest extent of my power to get you home.” He paused, before looking away from my eyes, looking increasingly uncomfortable. “But I must ask one thing of you in return.” I felt myself snort, as I looked this monster in the eye. I felt my fingers press into my pack, holding it tighter. I felt my fear transform into fury, and I almost snarled at the monster.

“And you pretend as if I have a choice?” I said, using my left arm to gesture to my mostly broken body, still surprised that I was still alive and conscious. “You pretend as if I won’t fucking die here as your hostage if I don’t do what you want?” I was incredulous. “You really want to promise me that I’ll return home, and then tell me that there are conditions after you and your… _kind_ break my body and very nearly turn my bones to dust-” He flinches. “-and you have the _fucki-_ ” I stop because I could feel the tears choking back up my throat and I take a breath before speaking again. “What do you want?” I felt my pride fall with my gaze to the dust. He stood, height shifting to tower over me.

“I…” He almost sounded reluctant, as if the words were stuck on his tongue and he was unable to spit them out. I almost wanted him to choke on them. "I want you to become our ambassador.” He pauses at the sight of my frown before continuing slowly. “I want you to help us bridge the gap between our differences, and reach unity with the humans.” I turned my stare from the ground to his eyes.

“Okay.” I sighed, uncaring and too tired to protest. I just wanted to go home. “Okay,” I said again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Currently the most up to date chapter in the reconstruction. Has been lengthened.
> 
> Please say so if you've encountered any mistakes, and conctruction criticism welcome.


	3. A Sticky Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Formal introductions and a physical impairment.

“I’m afraid this is as much as I can do, young one.” The goat monsters voice rang out and hung in the empty air. His hands fell to his sides and as he stood, his eyes still on my face. I looked around into the faces of the monsters around me. The goat-dude had a soft look in his eye, the small skeleton seemed to vibrate in place, the brightest smile eating up over half his face, and then there was him.  _ Death.  _ Or something close e-fucking-nough  to count, clad in a sweatshirt the color of sunset. Pinpricks of light occupied the previous empty eye-sockets, but none of the dread that he buried in my bones dissipated. I felt the waves of hatred radiating off him in waves.

My eyes fell back to the smaller skeleton, and his big smile. I felt lighter, somehow. Despite my distress, I attempted to give him back a smile and even with the fragile, watery mess it was--his grew even bigger. Taking a deep breath, I decided that I need to get home. So I tried to stand.

I successfully got my trembling right leg under me, and  moved the left for support. It shook almost violently, but I could stand. There was a sharp ache in a couple of places of my leg, I stepped forward with my right, then my left and my knee buckled from under me. I toppled over, and just before I hit the ground I felt strong hands catch me by my elbow. Looking over, I saw a bony ulna and radius lead into a blue gloved hand. I followed it back up to wide sockets, and he quickly righted me and softened the edges of his previous smile. 

“Thank y-” I said to the kid before I felt body snatched away. Not violently, but harshly enough to give me a start. Whipping around, I looked over my shoulder to see the larger skeleton with a stiff almost-grimace and blank sockets. His phalanges dug themselves into my bicep as he shoved me upright. He almost threw my arm like it burned him. I lost my balance again, and righted myself. My brows furrowed and I felt a frown slide onto my face.

“My leg.” I stumbled, realizing I couldn’t put much weight on my left. “There’s something wrong,” I tried walking again-and I began panicking. “I-I-I can’t walk!” My voice rose a few octaves. Purposefully, I fell to the ground, ripping the already ruined fabric of my pants, up to the middle of my thigh. I was checking to see anything visibly wrong with it and I saw nothing from what little I could see in the darkness. Absolutely nothing. Ignoring my urge to ask questions slapping me in the face, I felt around for something that could help me. Scouring the ground in the dark for some kind of walking stick, I found a stick, about the length of my forearm, tip-to-wrist. I cursed, ignoring the confused eyes on me. “A stick?” I said, feeling for the tearing seams from my scrape with a cliff-side. Ripping what I could into strips, quickly tying it to the side of my knee as a splint to help my leg from buckling. “Can someone get me a fucking stick?” I hissed through tightly-grit teeth.

“OH! I WILL, HUMAN!” The blue skeleton shouted, and I flinched. “Sorry!” Blue whisper-shouted before turning heel and ran into the heavily wooded area just beyond the path. I took in a deep breath and looked at Goat-guy.

“How am I supposed to explain this to James?” My voice was some soft almost-whisper that was only met with silence. The Goat man just looked me in the eye, still as soft as before and getting exponentially more annoying. I looked over to the Orange skeleton and my gaze fell to the ground immediately after it met his sockets. After a few moments of silence, I heard the crunching of boots in a rapid succession of footfalls. I looked up, seeing Blue, precious 

Thing came running with a twig clenched in his fist. A triumphant smile spitting his face, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh or cry. 

“I meant-” I made a noise stuck between a laugh and a sob. Fucking pitiful. “I meant… something long, sturdy and strong-” I heard someone choke and I decided to ignore it. “Something that could get me home.” 

“Oh.” His smile fell, and I guilt building a pit within my belly. Damn, was it hard to see this kid lose his smile. 

“It’s fine. It’s okay, could you just find one for me? Please?” He nodded, tightly before going off again, and I decided to watch after him. When he disappeared into the woods, I turned to the Goat man, avoiding his soft eyes. “What do you want me to do?” 

“I would like to speak with your figures of authority, little one.” 

“So… you want me to call the police on you?” I felt my brows rise, he seemed to think for a minute, then nodded. I snorted. “Fucking gladly.” I turned and pointedly glared at ‘Orange guy’, who frowned. Then we all turned toward the sound of heavy footsteps coming toward us. Blue, wielding a near-perfect walking stick and smiling again. He nearly flew toward me and when he landed, nearly thrust it in my hands.

“Thank you…?” I paused, almost calling him Blue as I had deemed him in my head. 

“MY NAME IS SANS!” I winced, he noticed and lowered his voice. “I’m Sans! And My brother over there is named Papyrus-- and his name is-”

“Asgore.” ‘Asgore interrupts quite quickly.” Sans leaned toward me, shielding his mouth while whisper-shouting in my ear, clearly not actually hiding what he said as Asgore’s features shifted into not-quite irritation.

“He’s the King!” His voice nearly burst with excitement, and my own jaw dropped.

“The King, you say?” I ask, and his head nearly nods off his cervical vertebrae. 

“The King!” He repeated, and I was looking directly at Asgore. 

“Okay.” Tucking that information away, I then asked. “Well, King Asgore, I will call up the cops as soon as I get home, which is the place that I should be, so I should get going.” I shifted my weight and the stick to support it. I had some trouble, but I managed. I hobbled off down the mountain path to home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot happened in this chapter, but one thing important does. Sorry if it seems unsatisfactory? I was bored, started writing and decided to throw this extra thing in. I also mapped out where I generally want this to go, so I gotta idea. I'm still posting a chapter next weekend on schedule, so consider this a bonus?
> 
> Also, still don't have a real grasp on MC's character? But I'll find it along the way, eventual-
> 
> Oh hey! Yeah. I'm changing the name of the fic. Partially to distinguish it a bit more... and because I wrote a line that I reread and the fact that it kinda fit for what I'm going for in general smacked me in the face.
> 
> That previous sentence was a jumble. Woah.
> 
> Anyway, if you're here, you probably already know that title changed, there'll be a note in the description and such.


	4. Duck, Dinner and Talking About First Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussions, Drugged up Dogs, and Dinner time.

Getting closer to home, I saw the silhouette of a man, hunched over while sitting on the steps of my porch. His head was in his hands as the porchlight beat down on his back, all clad in blue. Home.

“Jame-” He looked up, ripping his hands from his scalp and before I even knew it his strong arms were around me, my feet were off the ground and my walking stick clattered onto the ground as my own fingers moved to twist themselves into dread-locked hair. I felt his shuddering breath against my clavicle from where his head was buried. His vice-like hold only tightening like he never wanted to let go. 

“James?” I whispered, my own breath shuddering like his as my voice broke.

“Yeah?” His voice was muffled, his face pressed into my neck.

“Sorry, I didn’t come home.” I pressed my lips against his coarse hair, and he turned his face up to kiss me before moving to put me down. I recoiled when  my left hit the ground, shifting all my weight onto my right side. 

“You’re hurt.” He scooped me up again, and glanced at my walking stick before walking me inside the house. He sat me next to our dog, Duck. She lifted her head, looking at me with glassy eyes before laying her large head back down into my lap. Once I got settled on the couch, he went back outside and came back in with stick in hand. Before sitting down, he grabbed my hand, brushing his lips against my knuckles.

“What happened?” He wrapped his arms around me again, avoiding disturbing Duck. So I told him everything, and he said nothing, and just held me as I cried. After a while Duck lifted her head and lapped at my tears, eyes still glazed over.

 

“I’m so… so sorry.” He held me tighter, kissing the tip of my ear.

“I know.” I tangled my hand into Duck’s scruff and collar, she had fallen asleep. Wiping away tears with my other hand, I pushed myself off of him after a while.

“Can I borrow your phone?”

“Yeah.” His hands pat his pockets, fumbling with the lock on his phone before handing it to me. I looked through his contacts until I found his boss.

“Antoine--The hell’re ya callin’ this late. Couldn’t waita few hours ‘til we were on th’clock?” A gruff fatigue-touched voice called out.

“N-no sir. It’s James’-- Antoine’s… partner.” The name felt foreign on my tongue as I looked up at James who gave a small smile. I never really called him by his first name.”

“OH!” I flinched when his voice got loud. I hear rustling and a ‘sorry’ a fair bit away from the phone before I heard footsteps and the soft click of a door before he started to speak to me again. “Sorry, wakin’ up th’wife ain’t ‘zactly whatta wanna do.” He chuckled. “Anyway, this issa surprise! What canna do ya fer?”

“Yeah… Andrews… I wish it this was under better circumstances- but I gotta tell you something.” I inhaled. “Something big.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah… I just got back from a hike-”

“You jus’? It’s almos-”

“I know, Andrews bu-just-” I huffed. “Just listen, please.” I breathed again, readying myself to be laughed at, and I spoke again, noticing the dead silence on the other end. “Andrews?”

“I’m here.” He said, all business. 

“I…  _ saw  _ something. Something… I need you to go check it out.”

“Okay, kid.” He was still serious. “Details, what where and when.” And so I relayed the story again, probably more coherent because I had the practice. When I finished, he sucked in a breath and the air whistled between his teeth, any other time I found the sound pleasant, but right now I didn’t. 

“That sounds-”

“Crazy? Fucked? Yeah, belie-”

“No. I was going to say that I believe you.” James dragged me back onto his after carefully moving Ducks head. He pressed my back against his chest. “There were stories… when I wasa kid. Som’n ‘bout monsters and mountains. Heard stuff about how ever-so-often they’d come down and steal a kid n’ it and… I had a friend.” He whistled in a breath again, and the sound sounded even less pleasant than before. “’ll call ya back in th’mornin’an’ we’ll get all this sorted.” He sighed into the receiver.

“Thank you, Andrews.” 

“Yeah. See’y'inna couple hours.” The call ended.

 

James picked me up from the couch and brought me to the kitchen and set me on the counter, letting me watch as he cooked my favorite meal, singing my favorite song. When he was done, he nearly fell over himself trying to pour us drinks and plate the food. Most of it felt more like he was putting on a show to take my mind off it.

“Sorry.” He stopped.

“What?”

“You always end up taking care of me, you’re too good for me.”

“I don’t mind, and...” He grinned at me, kissing the tip of my nose. “Damn right I am.”

“I mind though.” He took my hand and squeezed it, chuckling.

“I know, but…”

“But what?”

“I like taking care of you.” He smiles. “You take care of me too, you know.” 

He pulls away, stuffing his mouth with his home-cooked meal, before pausing. He gulped it down and looked at me, brows furrowing and he kind of stares at me.

“What?”

“Why do you still call me James?” The room was silent, aside from the breathing of Duck a few feet away, slumbering away on the couch. After a few minutes, I decided to answer as honestly as I could.

“Habit.” I immediately stuffed my face, as he hummed. I was trying to fill the silence with chewing as loud as I could without smacking. 

We finished dinner without talking. The quiet was tense, as he walked to the couch picking up my stick and came back to hand it to me. He didn’t meet my eyes when he walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, been gone for a while, but was finishing up school. Yanno, exams, finals and all that stuff. I'm out now though, and I have a lot of stuff written down on paper, so yeah. I'll probably post another chapter within the next few days. Anyway, I thought I'd write in some more stuff about MC's past, but then I thought that I'd just let them have a breather after this day straight from hell (for the MC, at least, the day was hell.)
> 
> Anyway, something will be up, I have more than enough extra time now. I'll write something soon.
> 
> Also, Duck just came from the vet, couldn't really find a place to fit that piece of information in the chapter. That's why there's a glassy-eyed drugged up dog. Usually Duck goes hiking with the MC when they go, but this time she had to get her shots, so that's why she's couch-pupper right now. She's a six and a half-year old retired police dog who is Antoine's (James is his last name, it'll be properly explained why MC calls him that soon) previous partner. (Rottweilers live for about 8-10 years typically, if you didn't know.)
> 
> She's an older gal, but she'll still play like a pupper with the best of them. 
> 
> Also, I'm not sure if the term smacking is as widely used as I think? It might be, but I've had people ask me what the hell it meant, so just in case you don't know smacking is just loud open-mouthed chewing... not like... hitting someone. Even though it means that too.
> 
> Anyway byyyeee.

**Author's Note:**

> No real update schedule, I just post when I feel. Though I intend to tell the story in its entirety.


End file.
